Hunger
by Mayofish
Summary: There's a hunger inside Solas and he is scared of it.


It is late and the only sound is their breathing. A rare moment of near silence in Skyhold. Solas usually covets these moments alone, uses them to close his eyes and dream. Since the move to Skyhold and him taking up residence in the tower, it had been hard to find a quiet time to _sleep_.

But tonight the air is crisp, Dorian has already retried and even Lady Nightingale has shut off her lamps. The darkness above him seems almost endless as he gazes into it. He realizes he's been holding his breath, his jaw starts to ache from being clenched.

And Inquisitor Lavellan shows no sign of moving from his lap.

Her breath is warm on his neck and she leans into to kiss his Adam's apple. His mind is blank. He can't remember how they ended up like this. One moment he was reading, about to retire, when the door creaked open.

She should have been asleep hours ago.

"Solas..." she murmurs and he finally brings his hands up to her hips.

He can't believe he is awake. Their touches had been fleeting and few and it is clear that Lavellan is done with this game. She is ever so careful, waiting for him to tell her to stop. He has been so careful too, so slow because everything is so wrong and different since he _woke up_. There's a deep ingrained fear in him of hurting her, of driving her away.

He can't find his voice — but maybe he doesn't want to. Just this once.

She moves against him and the air isn't so cold anymore. She feels him start to twitch and harden under her. She touches his face, running her thumb over his lip and he brings his eyes away from the endless darkness above them to gaze at her. His hands tighten on her hips, pulling her closer. His eyes are dark.

He loves her and he hates the markings on her skin. He hates how comfortable she is in her own naivety. He wants to hurt her, wants to devour her. The Inquisitor slips her hands into his robes slowly, running her nails down his chest. Her eyes never leave his.

Solas breathes her smell in deep and licks his lips. He's hungry.

Lavellan leans in, brushes her mouth slightly against his before pushing his robes completely from his shoulders. She touches every inch of his pale flesh with her mouth and her fingers and Solas finally finds his voice to groan softly. He's scared by how intense the feelings he feels for her are. He hold himself back – just barely.

She pulls at the cords to his pants, his hands leave bruises on her hips.

She manages to slip through his fingers and then she's kneeling between his legs. It's so hard to keep control, to hold back the wolf inside of him. She looks like she's worshiping him and in the back of his mind he loves it. She frees his member from his pants suddenly and he can't swallow his growl. She's too soft as she kisses the head.

Solas moves his hips slightly and he feels her smile against him. Lavellan takes him fully into his mouth, her hands moving against the shaft. He watches her as she sucks and licks. His jaw is clenched painfully and his nails are digging into the side of his chair. He's getting close but she is too damn gentle.

He grabs her suddenly and pulls her up. He crushes his lips against hers. His head is spinning and his cock throbs painfully. He pushes her against his desk and removes her clothes quickly. She is out of breath, panting his name. There is no time for foreplay and she is already practically dripping as he pushes against her.

"Please," she begs and he's drunk on the sound.

He growls and it doesn't sound human anymore. Solas sheathes himself inside her roughly and she throws her head back. He leans against her, holding her tightly as he groans against her neck. She is so tight and warm and he never wants to leave. His head is spinning, and she is so loud.

He's close but he doesn't want it to end. There's an animalistic need in him that has not yet been sated, just awakened. Laveallan claws at his back and the smell of sex is overwhelming. He can hear her heartbeat over her moans and he can practically feel her blood under her veins. He swallows; he growls.

Solas leans down and inhales her sent, she is shuddering and calling his name like a chant.

Wait. It takes a moment but then he realizes, she _not_ crying out _his_ name.

"Oh, _Dread Wolf_...I'm close."

It's an explosion in his head. His teeth are suddenly against her shoulder and he can taste her sweat and there is blood. He releases himself inside her as she shudders. He opens his eyes and sees her face – clean of those _terrible_ markings.

* * *

Solas jerks awake. His head is throbbing and his body is sore from falling asleep in the strangle angle at his desk. He smooths his hand over his face to try and wipe away the sweat. He is shaking and he finds out quickly he needs a new change of small clothes.

He hisses in elven. Cursing her. Yet, Solas knows what must be done.


End file.
